


Ectobiological Results

by Saesama



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Gender Roles, Genderless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saesama/pseuds/Saesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ectobiology doesn't account for certain factors, and doesn't assign certain traits.</p>
<p>Like sex or gender.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ectobiological Results

**Author's Note:**

> Things I really like doing: 
> 
> Writing compare/contrast sets involving all eight kids. 
> 
> There will probably be an lot of these from me, until I'm confident in my abilities to write them all coherently and consistently.

You look down at the child in concern.

It looks back up at you, waving its tiny arms. There's two vague bumbs on its chest, a soft indent instead of a naval, and the skin between its legs is smooth and doll-like, with no definition save the opening of the urethra.

The woman you knew as your mother told you this child would come. She always referred to it as 'he' and 'him', as her grandson and your son. But this is no boy. It's not a girl, either. It appears to have been grown in a vat rather than born, and given the unorthodox method of it's arrival, perhaps it was.

You've gotten the impression, over the years, that your mother may have been similar.

But it is still human enough, still smiles and laughs and cries and eats and sleeps and makes a mess of its diapers. Its big blue eyes watch you from behind tiny glasses, and it burbles at you, working its hands like it wants to grab and hold. Or perhaps be held. You're not completely unfamiliar with children, but your experience is limited.

Then it smiles.

Your heart skips a beat. It's the beautiful smile of the very young and completely innocent, and you cannot help but pick it up and hold it to your shoulder. The baby murmurs happily and clings to your tie, and you're lost. 

No. Not 'it', not 'the baby'.

Your baby.

You suppose, with the ambiguity surrounding it's gender, it doesn't matter what you raise the child as, as long as you do it with love and care.

So, your son.

o o o

On the other side of the Scratch, a similar man has a similar debate, and comes to nearly the same conclusion.

o o o

He's just like you.

He's tiny and blond and squinty-eyed and completely lacking _anything_ below the belt.

You were treated as a girl and you hated every minute of it. You wanted fights and blades; you were given dolls and dresses. You turned make-up lessons into war paint, and when your period didn't happen and kept not happening, you told everyone to shove off and adopted a persona of such intense masculinity that everyone had no choice but admit that you were a guy.

You're not going to let that happen to him.

He's your little dude, your bro, and you're not going to let the world tell him that just because he doesn't have a dick, he's not a real man.

A part of you whispers that you're doing the same thing to him that was done to you. You ignore it.

o o o

You and Dirk sit naked in front of your web cams for an hour, examining each other carefully for clues and signs. 

He eventually decides that you're a girl, because your hips are a wee bit wider than your shoulders and that means 'lady-like curves' when you get older. Plus, pink is a girl's color, and you definitely like pink.

You decide he's a guy because he's so damn tall compared to you and guys are bigger, right? And he hacks off his hair any time it gets long and spikes the rest of it up, and it's so not a girl's haircut.

He argues that some girls in the 20th century had short, spiky hair. You counter with the argument that real men wear pink.

Your conversation ends with him tying a towel around his chest like a dress and curling the ends of his hair, and you scrounging up an outfit that makes you look like a tiny lumberjack and when you sign off, you're both giggling.

o o o

Your child walks into the room and looks up at you. "Mother," ze cays calmly, sounding far, far older that ze is. "Are you sober enough for a serious conversation?"

You're not sober, but you're sober enough, and you sit on the edge of the couch. "Mother," repeats the child who sits across from you. "I appear to be lacking any kind of discerning genitalia."

You nod. It's why you have yet to assign a gender role. You'd rather ze chose on zir own. 

Ze mulls this over for a moment. "Is this why I lack a name?" ze asks.

It's one of the reasons, and you say so. Ze's always been 'dear' or 'baby' to you, and you know the pain of a name you hate, so you'd rather ze chose that, too.

Ze contemplates this for a long moment. "I can choose?" ze asks finally. You nod. "Then," ze says slowly. "I choose to be a girl." Ze - she - looks almost afraid for a moment, then nods. "Yes, a girl. Named-"

She stops and fidgets, looking at you, her eyes pleading. You take pity on her. "Do you want me to name you?" you ask carefully. She nods, looking relieved, and you sit back to look at her for a long moment. She's a prickly child, but lovely none the less, and sharp as thorns. You roll an idea around for a moment, then speak. "Rose."

The rare smile that lights up her face is worth it. Your child becomes your daughter.

o o o

You contact Roxy a year after deciding each others gender and tell her that maybe you two were wrong about you, because you're pretty sure that you like guys like That a lot more than you like girls.

She grins and tells you that you're not a girl, you're gay. You block her for two days.

o o o

Grandpa was trying to make it easy on you, you know. He gave you a neutral name and set the wardrobifier to neutral clothing and never implied one way or the other what you should be.

But you like skirts, and long hair, and the secret joy of being a girl adventurer in a world where girls are supposed to be weak. You think Grandpa would approve.

o o o

Jade's ecstatic to see you, and the feeling is mutual. You both hug, openly boisterous and so painfully similar, and she giggles that it's like you're brother and sister. You agree, you're about as close to siblings as sexless test tube babies can get, right?

Everyone goes very, very still.

Then one of the Strider's snorts and Jane giggles and it's okay, you didn't royally stick your foot in it this time.


End file.
